How in the world can there be a Peggy in Margaret? Or a Dick in Richard?
It goes on. Sally from Sarah. Chuck from Charles. And what about Jack from John?
If you look Polly up in the dictionary, it says “See Mary.” Fate if you ask me.
Anyway. If we dig into each name, we find some historical reasoning, like having too many Henry’s around, so one became Henrick, which sort of sounded like Hank. Most of the explanations are lame if you ask me.
Truthfully, I think a lot of it had to do with bad memories. Not like, “Oh, we had a horrible time there, we have such bad memories of that place.” No. Not like that. But the kind of “bad memory” where you can’t remember things, or in this case, people’s names.
I imagine back in the days of yore, there were a lot of people swilling their swill. Beer and wine were the only drinks there for a long time running, after all. And after a few of those, people tend to lose touch with a lot of brain transfer items.
So the little girl that lives two doors down, in the village, what was her name? It’s begins with an ssss sound, was it Sappy, or Sarty? No, it was Sally, yes Sally that’s it. And before you know it, everyone is calling Sarah, Sally, because John Woodcutter can’t remember anyone’s name.
Maybe.
It doesn’t really stop with names.
Just go somewhere today. Anywhere. Do you take your car, or your automobile? Perhaps it is your vehicle.
We can’t make up our minds.
There is the entire Hatfield vs. McCoys of the Drink World, when we say soda, or when we say pop. Some even say Coke.
Tennis shoe. Or Sneaker.
Roundabout or Traffic Circle?
Is is a Crayfish, or a dang Crawdad?
There are hundreds.
Spigot vs. Faucet (Sounds like Godzilla vs. Kong)
Pill Bug. Potato Bug. Roly Poly.
Most of it depends on where you live. Perhaps the rest of the world calls them Lollipops. But here in the Midwest, they are just plain old Suckers.
Which then, could be an entirely different matter if we really want to confuse things. You could be enjoying a sucker. Or perhaps you were born a sucker.
Do you have a wooden match? You two are a perfect match.
She has a pound of meat. She will pound it out later.
Oh no, that vampire bat if flying right for us. Hit it with this baseball bat.
Do you tire of this? Because, I can talk about my flat tire.
On my car, or was it my automobile?
Everything we humans know about, has a name. Every person too.
It is the thing that is given to us when we first get here. And it is important to use people’s names, correctly. Things too. But. Our names are the greatest connection to our own identities and individuality. Some have even argued that it is the most important word in the world to each of us.
Personally, I feel a strong affection for the words bamboozled, gumption, and cattywampus. But even though those words are important to me, I’d rather be called by my name, Polly.
Using names is the one way we can easily get someone’s attention. It shows that we respect that person. It is courteous, too. Much better than “Hey. You.” And it is kind of nice when someone remembers our name after meeting us. Somehow, it gives us a little tiny twinge that we matter.
And that’s what I’ve been meaning to say, all along.
No matter what our name might be, it is ours. A part of us. The thing that helps identify us to the rest of the world. Because, just like the rest of the world, we are here.
Sharing this place.
And every single one of us. Matter.
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“When someone shows you who they are believe them; the first time.”
― Maya Angelou
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“Maybe ever’body in the whole damn world is scared of each other.”
― John Steinbeck, Of Mice and Men
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“It is good people who make good places.”
― Anna Sewell, Black Beauty
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